


Perhaps There's Something There (That Wasn't There Before)

by Simply_Isnt_On



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chanukah, First Kiss, Hanukkah, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John takes Sherlock home to celebrate Hanukkah with his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps There's Something There (That Wasn't There Before)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cynosure_phrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynosure_phrases/gifts).



> Please note that I am not Jewish, nor do I celebrate Hanukkah; therefore, I apologize for any issues with references or organization or anything on that front.  
> I also very very rarely write ships, because I'm awful at romance, so here's my best shot. Happy Hanukkah, Anaïs.

"Where are you going?" John jumped and dropped his pants- he thought Sherlock had already left for his parents' house.

"Ugh." He bent to retrieve the fallen underthings and shoved them in his duffel, then turned to where his flatmate leaned in his doorway. "My parents house. Harry's finally out of rehab and they wanted me to come see them." Sherlock's eyes flickered over clothes still laid out across the bed, and he lifted a brow.

"No Christmas jumpers? I mean really, they are hideous, but generally they're all you wear this time of year." John winced and turned back to packing, shoving clothes into his bag with ferocity.

"They... wouldn't take kindly to me wearing a Christmas jumper on the Festival of Lights," he muttered, zipping his bag and turning to grab his shoes. Bag in hand, he shoved past Sherlock and took the stairs two at a time to the living room. By the time Sherlock had caught up, he was already tying his second shoe. "And there's a cab downstairs, because my parents insisted, and I'm trying not to run up the tab so please don't try to delay me."

Sherlock stared at him, mind adding clues as John watched, coming to the obvious conclusion. "Can I come?" he asked suddenly, eyes flicking to John's face. "I've never seen a Chanukah celebration before." John rolled his eyes, because of course his genius flatmate would see it as an informational activity instead of a sacred celebration.

"Fine, whatever, I'll phone my parents, but only if you phone yours. I'll come up with more rules on the way." John huffed and moved past him out the door, collecting the small case Sherlock had meant to bring to his own family estate on his way down the stairs. "Coming?"

**

"Why celebrate Christmas?" Sherlock asked after an hour of driving. John jerked awake, habit from nights when Sherlock lurked in the shadows, unable to sleep. "You clearly respect and value the festival of lights, why celebrate Christmas?"

John rolled his eyes. "Really? It's easier, Sherlock, it's just easier to take part in the most celebrated holiday on the bloody planet then to explain that I'm Jewish. Gets bloody exhausting assuring people constantly that you're not offended by their Christmas cards and well-wishing. And on that note, when we get to my parents', just try to be cordial, okay? My family has it's own set of problems, and it's Hanukkah, so just... don't ruin things."

**

John's parents met them at the door and greeted John with open arms and exclamations, hugging him and patting his back. When they noticed Sherlock, John's mother muttered something in Yiddish, which John returned under his breath. His father answered sharply, and John sighed. "Mum, Dad, this is Sherlock, my flatmate. He wanted to come along."

John's father extended his hand. "Ezra Watson, and this is my wife Annemarie." John met Sherlock's eyes and watched him shake hands with both his parents, and to John's relief he didn't go further than, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

**

John's parents had a few choice words to say about him not coming until the last day of the Festival while Sherlock wandered around the living room, examining the Chanukah decorations. Harry came down from her bedroom upstairs when she heard John, and introduced her boyfriend Michael. When the sun had set Annemarie called the family together, the menorah was lit and set to shine in the living room window and small gifts were exchanged before dinner, whereupon to John's surprise Sherlock had seconds of his mother's potato latkes and noodle kugel, exclaiming the entire time over how good the food was.

There was only juice to be had at the table, out of respect for Harry, but once she and Michael had gone to bed Ezra broke out a bottle of wine and the four stayed up another hour before Ezra and Annemarie went to bed too, leaving John and Sherlock with strict instructions to put out the candles and hide the wine before they went to bed.

**

"This is nice," Sherlock commented after several minutes of companionable silence, and dammit of course John's brain would choose now to focus on the way his curls framed his face, with the light of the menorah candles shining on his cheeks.

"Hmm?" John blinked and rubbed his eyes, only to look up straight into Sherlock's unwavering gaze. His eyes had gone dark blue-grey, and John had never seen him look more otherworldly. "Ah, more wine?" He fumbled with the bottle, only to have Sherlock's hand on his arm still his movements.

"I've had enough." And then John wasn’t sure who moved in, but Sherlock's lips are against his, all teeth and gentleness, and he sighs into it and hesitantly settles one hand on Sherlock's back, the other in his hair, and he couldn't tell you how long they kissed before Sherlock pulled back.

"You're drunk." And then he's standing, straightening his suit jacket, and John doesn't know what to do because he is drunk, he knows it, and why is Sherlock staring at him like that?

"Are you coming?" And perhaps John's parents knew something John didn't, because both bags are in the same single-bed guest room, and then he's stripping out of his clothes, climbing into bed beside his flatmate feels like it's the most natural thing in the world. Sherlock is a space heater and an octopus, he's sure of it, but he doesn't object as Sherlock spoons up behind him so that his legs are tucked behind John's own at a right angle, resting against his bum. "Go to sleep, John," he murmurs, and kisses John's hair and pets his side with one hand, and John can't help but think that if this is who's in his bed at the end of the day, he'd want for nothing else so long as he lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited Dec. 15, 2017 for minor typos and some _wow old me, what were you thinking??_ anyway, enjoy the smoother story-telling, and Happy Hanukkah, all.  <3


End file.
